


What if: Fingon's Capture and what Follows

by Mackerooooons



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bad Decisions, Character Death, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, bullet point fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:53:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25743874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackerooooons/pseuds/Mackerooooons
Summary: In which Morgoth manipulates guilt and love
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno & Maedhros | Maitimo, Maedhros | Maitimo & Maglor | Makalaurë
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [potatoesanddreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/potatoesanddreams/gifts).
  * Inspired by [fools enough to love each other more than we can bear](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24781258) by [potatoesanddreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/potatoesanddreams/pseuds/potatoesanddreams). 



> A while ago I read this story "fools enough to love each other more than we can bear" by the amazing "potatoesanddreams" where Fingon gets captured at the Nirnaeth. The muse wanted me to expand on that and explain the whole history of the world following that. Spoilers: it's bad.
> 
> I wrote basically what I remembered from that other fic, and a lovely helpful commenter directed me back to it. I'd lost it. But the link is https://archiveofourown.org/works/24781258. **Please read that one first.** It's better, my summary lacks the beauty. Then you can come back and see what  
> (maybe) follows.

-So, what if instead of Fingon being beaten into the dust, he was taken captive?

-An orc emmisary is taken captive, waving a flag of parlay and frantically repeating "If I don't come back he pays for it" as fast as possible. 

-The scouts can't make sense of it so they take him to their general's tent. 

-Melting beneath the combined stares of Mardhros and Maglor, the unlucky orc desperately tosses a small sack at the generals' feet. 

\- Maglor picks up the bag from the dirt and dumps the contents on the table. With in is a note requesting an exchange, with something that seems to suck the air from the tent.

\- Three black braids woven with gold lay on the table.

\- Maglor gasps and steals a glance at Maedhros who looks stonier than he'd ever seen.

\- Maedhros slowly turns to the orc who staggers backwards with an "IfIdon'tcomebackhepaysforit" and trips over the guard. 

\- Maedhros bites his tongue until he tastes blood, forcing himself to not rip the orc to pieces quite literally. 

\- It names a time and place and is escorted out with a wave of Maedhros' hand.

\- Maedhros and Maglor stare at the braid sullenly.

\- "This is bait."

\- "So was I."

\- Silence.

\- "I am needed here."

\- "Yes. Now more than ever."

\- “Now more than ever,” Maedhros echoed. He laid his hand on the table, close beside the braids. He didn’t touch them.

\- “I am so sorry,” said Maglor.  
Maedhros did not answer.  
“That you should have to suffer  
this from both sides of it…”

\- “I wonder who he’d rather have,” Maedhros murmured, “me or Fingon.”

\- “Maedhros!” said Maglor, aghast. “You’re not thinking of going –"

\- A harsh almost-laugh. "No. I am no fool. I know most of all that we would not receive him in exchange. I am not going."

\- “It could be,” Maglor said hesitantly. Maedhros raised his eyes. There was no expression in them. Maglor cleared his throat, a small sound. “It could be that they’re lying. It could be that he’s dead.”

\- It was not a mere hope. It was more a consolation, a plea that his brother would believe him, be fooled from any rashness.

\- Brothers do not fool as well as soldiers.

-Maedhros shot to his feet so quickly he knocked over his chair. “He’s not dead, you stupid _child_ ,” he snarled, furiously enough that Maglor flinched. “Why in the stinking depths of Angband would they kill him when they could have him al—” His voice broke. “When th–”

\- He stood frozen in place for a long moment, his fist clenched, his throat working as he tried and failed to speak. Then he sagged, as though some pillar within him had crumbled, and with a low, choked wail he fell to his knees on the packed earth.

-Maglor went to him at once, kneeling beside him. He tried to take Maedhros’s hand, but Maedhros jerked away violently. _“Don’t touch me!”_

\- “All right,” said Maglor, “all right,” and he knelt very still there beside his brother, his hands tightly clasped in his lap, while Maedhros bowed his forehead to the ground and sobbed.

\- They remained there for a long time. At last, when Maglor’s muscles were growing stiff and the light from outside the tent was fading to the blue of evening, Maedhros raised himself laboriously from the ground. He was still weeping, but his tears were silent now, and he gave Maglor his hand and leaned against his shoulder. After a long moment he spoke.

\- "I'm going after him." There was an iron will that hadn't been heard in his voice since before the Nirnaeth. "I'll agree to the parlay; it'll be a distraction. I'll circle around them and-"

\- “What!?” Maglor twisted round to look at him, aghast. “Maedhros, you _can’t!_ You won’t make it – you’ll be _taken_ , you’ll –”

\- "No. I won't. I'll-"

\- "But-"

\- “No.” Maedhros’s fingers tightened on his brother’s. “Look, you don’t understand. You think you do but you don’t. You’ve been here before, when it was me, but you’ve never been there. You don’t know – and I’m glad you don’t, for my sake as well as yours – because you were right, you made the right choice not to come after me, you know I believe that – but even so, if you –” His voice broke a little. He cleared his throat. “If you had known – and you hadn’t tried –” He lifted his head from Maglor’s shoulder, turning to look him in the face. “I wouldn't have been able to believe that you – that any of you – loved me at all – not ever again -”

\- Maglor made a strangled noise, almost a half-moan, half-sob and turned away.

-“That kept me Eldarin,” said Maedhros, after a moment. “That you loved me – that you didn’t know. But I know.” He lifted a shoulder. “And I know I’m needed, and I know it’s the wrong choice, and I know how angry he’d be with me if he knew I was even considering it – but I can’t do that to him – I can’t. So you’ll have to make it through without me.”

\- A long silence. Maglor whispered "I'll go. You stay."

\- “No!” Maedhros sprang to his feet, looking down at his brother in horror. “Don’t even think it!”

-“Well, we can’t both go,” Maglor said, rising also; “that’d make Celegorm head of the House…"

\- “Who said anything about both of us going? I’m going, you’re staying here to lead the retreat –”

-“I’m not leaving you there again! I _can't_."

\- Maedhros had been about to mount another objection. His voice died in his throat. He reached hesitantly toward Maglor’s face; then his fingers curled and he dropped his hand back to his side. “You’re crying.”

\- Maglor scoffed bitterly. “You’re surprised? You say what you’ve just said to me, and then you tell me you’re going back, and -” He pressed his fist to his mouth. “It’s - Valar - Maedhros, this is how Morgoth does it, isn’t it? This is all it takes.”

\- Maedhros frowned. "What?"

-“You’d give yourself to him on a platter for a chance at saving Fingon,” Maglor said. “And I – here I am offering to go in your place, because I left you before and I can’t, I can’t do it again! And it’s the same thing, always the same thing – it’s what Gwindor did when they butchered Gelmir, and it’s how we lost Annawen from the Gap after her mother was taken, and it’s why Finrod is dead – and how much more is he going to take from us, how many more are we going to lose, because we’re fools enough to love each other more than any of us can bear?”

\- There was a long silence.

\- "If it were otherwise," Maedhros muttered, "I would be hanging from Thangorodrim right now."

\- Maglor looked down. 

\- Maedhros sighed. “Look. There’s no hope, I know. But there never really has been – not for anyone on these shores. I could stay with our people, I could try to forget, try to imagine Fingon dead – lead the retreat and save what I can and pretend I still believe we can kill a Vala, pretend this won’t end in one choice for us all, thralldom before us and our backs to the Sea – or I could – well. If there’s no hope anyway, why shouldn’t I try?”

\- If there’s no hope anyway,” Maglor said stubbornly, “then why shouldn’t I come with you?”

\- "Maglor."

\- The look with which his elder brother fixed him was so familiar from childhood that Maglor almost laughed. “Well, can you give me a reason? If we really can’t win –”

-“We still have a duty to – end well. I know you can lead our people to such an ending. After Nargothrond – well, I don’t trust that Celegorm could.”

\- "No,” said Maglor. “But there’s still Caranthir – we could send our people to him –”

\- “Celegorm would be head of the House even so,” said Maedhros, “and Curufin and Amras would fall in line behind him. Caranthir would have to do so as well, or lose what’s left of the family. You’re needed here, Maglor. You must stay.”

\- "Oh, I must, must I?” Maglor cried. “Why are you allowed to make the reckless choice if I am not? Why are you allowed to run off and get yourself killed or worse while I must be prudent and stay behind? Why must I always be the one to stay behind? You do it, Maedhros. You lead them all to whatever safety you can find and try not to think about where your brother is –” He stopped short at the look on Maedhros’s face. “Oh,” he said softly. “That was cruel.”

\- “Yes,” said Maedhros. “But you’re right, too. And it supports my side if any. Still, Maglor. Please. I can’t – I – please.”

\- Maglor wrapped his arms about himself and closed his eyes. Several times he opened his mouth to speak, and several times he shut it again without words. At last he looked up at his brother. “If some orc brings me your hair in a pouch,” he said, “I’m going after you. I don’t care what happens. I won’t leave you there again.”

\- "I can't talk you out of that one, can I?" Mardhros sighed wearily.

\- "I love you," Maglor supplied in lieu of answer.

\- Maedhros gave a deep sigh, then bent down to kiss his brother’s cheek. “It’s late. Go to sleep now. We’ll discuss it further in the morning.”

\- Maglor lingered at the tent’s entrance. “Good night, Nelyo.”

\- "Good night, Kano," Maedhros said softly.

\- The next morning, Maglor found his brother’s tent deserted. Fingon’s braids were gone from the table. On the bedroll lay a note written in Maedhros’s careful hand:

- _'If you change your mind and follow me, I will get captured of purpose._  
_I love you._  
_I am sorry.'_

\- Maedhros was difficult to track. When Maglor caught up with him at last, he said, “If you get yourself captured on purpose then so will I. Don’t you dare.”

\- Maedhros laughed, and shouted, and sobbed, and finally he caught up his brother in his arms and embraced him as if he would never let go.

\- He must.

\- Things do not go well. (Surprised? Ha Ha)

\- Maedhros meets the parlay (with no small host) while Maglor sneaks around the group to utilize his songs of power and... less conspicuous hair to try and gain entry that way. Maybe from there he can obtain the lost cousin without cutting any hands off (hopefully). Maedhros will create enough of a diversion to avoid any... additional captures.

\- Neither of them get close. Maedhros finds himself face to face with several balrogs. Which goes about as well as last time.

\- Maglor is introduced to Glaurung and his own guard of balrogs. Which goes about as well as you'd expect. 

\- So they see each other when they see Morgoth.

\- And following their father's footsteps, they curse him thrice. Each.

\- Morgoth, unsurprisingly, does not appreciate the creativity.

\- They are introduced to Fingon's head.

\- Maglor bites his lip bloody in effort to stifle his horror stricken sobs.

\- Maedhros doesn't have to.

\- Maedhros sits.

\- But his eyes are alight with the memory of the Trees and he smiles up at someone only he can see. "Findekano! So here thou wast. I did miss thee."

\- Maglor's heart breaks a little more.

\- Morgoth raises a hand in command.

\- The brother's polar expressions are the last they ever make.


	2. What if: What Follows Fingon's Capture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which politics go about as well as rescue missions

\- Well, the scouts have reported to Celegorm what happened with Fingon's capture, and when the two oldest Feanorions are... gone, the brothers reach the unfortunate but very true conclusions.

\- Maglor and Maedhros and Fingon are gone. 

\- Morgoth is definitely not interested in any kind of, well, honesty.

-Turgon is now high king, and Celegorm is head of the house of Feanor. 

\- Turgon is informed of this by an eagle (the only way he gets news of anything at all). He is told that the gates of Angband have three new decorations. Two black, one red. Defiant, stricken, joyful. 

\- There is held a week of mourning in Gondolin, preceding the proclamation of the High King.

\- Gondolin falls per canon, and does not enter this story again.

\- The Fëanorians, however, have no such luxury. 

\- Uldor's turncoat men were on their flank, and over half of their force was lost. Now with the north unsafe for even woodmen, so they must migrate south.

\- Nargothrond is out of the question, (Thanks a lot, Celegorm and Curufin) and Gondolin is nowhere to be found (not that they'd be welcome).

\- They reconvene in Amon Ereb, Caranthir's fortress in southern Ossiriand.

\- Celegorm spends more time Orc hunting than eating, Curufin is rarely seen outside of the forge, Caranthir commits all his time to organization of defence systems and training of the army, and Amras... 

\- Amras speaks to no one, and does little else than sharpen his hunting knife. He sharpens until the blade all but disappears, and then gets a new knife. 

\- His brothers don't bother him.

\- Other than that, everything goes pretty much according to canon. 

\- Yeah, right.

\- The lore is pretty clear that Maedhros was just about the only thing that kept his brothers from attacking Doriath earlier than they did. 

\- Let's suppose that they had a little debate, but decided that they would request the Silmaril. 

\- Of course, it doesn't help, at all, that the elves of Doriath didn't show up the the Nirnaeth. 

\- Partly (mostly) Celegorm and Curufin's fault; Thingol did not appreciate the kidnapping of his daughter, and would surely not fight alongside her kidnappers, even if it was against the Enemy and would turn the tide of the war.

\- Anyway, bitter bitter bitter. Everyone's bitter.

\- So the Fëanorions send Thingol a letter.

\- _'G_ _ive up the Silmaril in payment for our brothers' lives._

_We will fetch it if you decline._

_You have been warned.'_

\- Thingol is not worried in the slightest. He's got the coolest wife of all, and a protected kingdom. Anyone who tried to attack would be idiotic.

\- He does strengthen the southern border, just in case.

\- But Thingol, of course, cannot let this chance slide. He sends a reply.

\- The reply is really quite eloquent and less than savoury. 

\- Thingol will not be giving up the Silmaril, and no orc-like usurpers and outcasts will demand anything of him, not after taking his daughter.

\- Celegorm of course calls his brothers together, and commands an attack. Curufin is all for it, of course, and Amras has ceased to care.  
\- Celegorm is adamant. "We will gather our people and attack Doriarth on the day of the Winter Solstice. The Sindar will be too busy celebrating to fight back. We will have the upper hand.

\- Caranthir opens his mouth, obviously angry and wishing to protest, but Celegorm raises a hand to stop him. “I will hear no more,” he says, “this is my decision, brother. Whether you join us or not, is entirely up to you. Remember that Thingol did not do much as assist in the Fifth Battle, the battle which cost us our brothers. This, as much as anything warrants an attack, and his words of refusal do not give him pardon. I will see our birthright restored."

\- With that, he strode out of the room, Curufin following behind.

\- Of course they did attack Doriath. 

\- And of course they did not succeed.

\- Between the Girdle of Melian and the leadership of Beleg, the Fëaorians are crushed like bugs, though they almost, almost make it to Menegroth.

\- Beleg is slain by Celegorm, who is in turn slain by Mablung, who is slain by Curufin who is shot in the back in his distraction. 

\- Caranthir falls weeping over the body of Amras, and the Sons of Fëanor are no more.

\- The oath is unfulfilled.

\- The brothers have a tearful reunion, both with each other and then with their Father.

\- Fëanor is shocked by the transformation of his children, his dear sons. Some are listless, some are sorrow stricken, others fey and wild-eyed. The twins refuse to look at him, much less speak to him. They cling to each other, incorporeal formed melding until they appear as one.

\- They all are brought before Namo, Lord of the Dead.

\- They are proclaimed to be oath-breakers, subject to the Eternal Darkness, as they had sworn. 

\- They are given bodies and escorted to the Gates of Night by a guard of Maiar.

\- Standing at the Gate is a large crowd, many excited to see what judgement would fall upon the leaders of kinslayers. At the head of the crowd is Nerdanel, Wife of Fire, Mother of the Dispossessed.

-Fëanor is glowing with pain and regret and fury, his very blood pulsing with light, and his eyes shine like blazing stars. No one can look into those eyes, no one but Nerdanel, and she _looks_ and her eyes take up that light and harbour it and reflect it forever after. Their Bond of souls cuts the air like a knife and they hold each other though separate and weep as one.

\- Maedhros is stoney faced and wild eyed, resigned and filled to the brim with fear, rooted in place like a tree and trembling like a leaf. His manic eyes flicking about the crowd, looking for a black and gold head. 

\- Fingon is no there, neither does he know about the ceremony. The Valar won't risk another one man rescue.

\- Maglor is singing painfully and wordlessly, for no words can express the guilt and horror and suffering and all who hear are struck with a pain that isn't theirs, but they feel as if it was. Many begin to weep, and the geering fades. His wife joins the song, and they exist in harmony for what will be the last time.

\- Celegorm is laughing, eyes mad. He hadn't had time in Mandos to heal. He never will.

-Caranthir shrinks into himself. He is pale as a sheet, so unlike himself, and he tries to disappear, to be anywhere but here. It doesn't work.

\- Curufin is shouting to his wife, pleading her to look at him. She doesn't, or can't. She doesn't know which. She has her back turned, weeping into her hands. 

\- Amrod and Amras cling to each other, on their knees. The only thing that matters is the other. They don't know if they will be able to see each other in the Void.

\- The Maian guards are moving, forcing Fëanor forward first. Nerdanel cries out, surging forward. 

\- She clings to Feanor until he is thrust through the Gates, and the last thing he sees is her face. Each of her children clasp her hand as they walk into the Void one by one. They each cry to her. "Ammë!" "Amil, no!" " _Please!_ "

\- She breaks.

\- Nerdanel is escorted to the Gardens of Lorien and is cared for by her Mother-in-law. Her eyes shine ever with the final light of her husband's pain. Many mistake her for a Maia so bright it is. Nerdanel never speaks again.

\- She crafts the same eight statues, though every time they are a little different. They are illusions, seeming to change from every angle, yet remain familiar. Sorrowful now, step to the right, young and joyful. Empty and emotionless here, but move a bit and now it's angry and fell.

\- Few can look at her statues, but Nienna places them before the Gates of Night as a memorial. 

\- It is whispered that one day Feanor and his sons will be returned, but the hope of most is that they will remain in the void.

\- It is in the hands of ony Eru Iluvatar in whose name the oath was spoken.

\- Meanwhile, Doriath is in a bit of a pickle. Beleg is dead. 

\- The north marches of the land are bitterly defended, and strength is dwindling.

\- The defense rests almost soley on the shoulders of the Dragon-Helm. He has Anglachel though for the sake of bad luck (and suicide), because it was awarded to him for outstanding defense work. Or something.

\- Turin, of course, takes this opportunity to "accidently" kill Saeros and go missing.

\- Doriath must draft the women as a main legion of the defense, something unheard of.

\- Turin's Disaster Life™ continues.

\- With no Beleg to go after Turin, irk Mîm, and encourage his betrayal, Turin stays at Amon Rûdh longer than in canon. 

\- Not long enough though. That one outlaw that killed Mîm's son gets under foot enough that he betrays him anyway.

\- But, since Beleg wasn't there to help Turin build like a huge alliance, the orcs don't attack with nearly as much strength, Turin doesn't get captured, doesn't kill Beleg, and doesn't meet Gwindor.

-Gwindor dies in Taur-nu-Fuin. Probably a better outcome, all things considered.

\- So Turin goes to Nargothrond. 

\- Seen as he's quite well known for his work in Doriath, he is as accepted as in canon.

\- He builds a bridge.

\- Nargothrond falls.

\- From here it quite proceeds as in canon, just without Mablung. Someone else instead.

\- But Turin and Nienor get married (blechy blech) and then die, and Glaurung dies on schedule, and Hurin gets released, and fetches the Nauglimir and gives it to Thingol.

\- Thingol happily has the Silmaril set in it, unhappily dies (which let's face it, that was his fault), and Dior moves in. 

\- After, of course, Melian is sad and teleports back to Valinor. Which, like, when was this a thing?! Ainur can teleport?! Can't think of a time when that would have been useful. Except maybe, like, EVER! I mean how hard would it have been for Manwe to grab a few Valar and just... pop into Angband and be like "Hands up Melkor, you're under arrest for being a really trash Vala." I mean, what happened to Tulkas? I thought he was all about fighting Melkor! Manwë can see and hear everything or something like that, so what's he doing with his time? I hate Manwe with a passion.

\- Ahem. I digress.

\- So Melian teleports to Valinor and the Girdle is gone.

\- Doriath sticks it out for a while but eventually it falls to Morgoth, and Elwing escapes with the Silmaril.

\- The refugees make their way to the Mouths of Sirion, where they meet the refugees of Gondolin, per canon. Everything goes really well for them. 

\- Except that with no Silmaril seeking Feanorions to sack the city, there are no bird transformations. Without he guiding light of the Silmaril, Eärendil is shipwrecked trying to find the Blessed Realm like most. Elwing raises her sons as a widow. 

\- At that point, Eärendil tries to convince the Valar to help them, but he's kind of dead, and a Noldo, so he's under the Doom and is ignored like all the other dead folks. 

\- Morgoth, who has conquered everything north of Sirion, doesn't waste time in taking that too. 

\- Elwing is killed defending her sons, the Silmaril is seized, and Melkor becomes the king of Beleriand.

\- News reaches him too late.

\- The River Gelion is flooded until it becomes a gulf. The Great Sea eats away the coast. Cirdan and his last survivors on the Isle of Balar hastily sail east, settling in Eriador. Sirion joins the sea. The lands of Hithlum, Himlad, and Doriath are flooded. Anfauglith becomes a murky sea, Thangorodrim an island.

\- Morgoth is trapped beneath the earth, under the waves. He can only hope that the Doors of Angband hold back the tide.

\- _Eru has intervened._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm. Well that was fun, right?
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment, they're a delicacy, however simple. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Well. That was awful. But just you wait for part two!


End file.
